


No Time For Lost Fathers

by Anonymous



Category: The Great Mouse Detective (1986)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Criminals, M/M, Minor Character Death, Possibly Unrequited Love, basically crack because what
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-19
Updated: 2017-12-19
Packaged: 2019-02-17 03:24:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,798
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13068105
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Basil makes Ratigan an offer he can't refuse.Slash. Don't like don't read. I don't own any of it.A (not very expanded) 'verse where Basil and the rest are criminals (petty and not so petty) who work for Ratigan and his gang. It's... yeah I'm not even sure what this is.Part 1 of 2





	No Time For Lost Fathers

**Author's Note:**

> *spoilers* Basil's a con artist whom Ratigan adores. Hiram was willingly doing work for Ratigan but was somehow killed, leaving Olivia alone in Ratigan's lair.

Basil cringed as the din outside reached a pitch of screams, yowls and crashes.

 

_‘No! No, no, please, boss!’_

_‘Oh, Felicia, what a good girl!’_

One, final crescendo; a hiss, a yelp and then an awful _crunch_ and the place shook, one of the fragile glass tubes suspended above Basil’s desk fracturing audibly in two and letting the substance inside dribble through onto the wooden surface below.

 

‘Argh! That’s _it_!’ Basil shouted, slamming his fists down on the desk.

 

The room shook a few times again, gentler and gentler as outside the cat returned to her usual sleeping spot.

 

There was a rap upon the door of Basil’s quarters and then Ratigan swept in, cigarette in hand, closing the door behind him with a flick of his wrist.

 

‘Ah, Basil, I thought I heard your voice,' he drawled.

 

He picked his way through a mass of papers and white feathers, coming to a halt in front of Basil.

 

‘Keeping the place neat and tidy, I see. Everything all right?’

 

‘Oh _splendid_ , boss,’ sneered Basil, gingerly dabbing at the liquid (now hissing as it worked its way into the wood) with a thick cloth. ‘You’ve not sent me on a job in weeks. I’m getting worried you no longer have use of me.’

 

‘Bored, are you?’ asked Ratigan, taking a drag from the cigarette.

 

‘Intolerably.’

 

‘My poor Basil, your concerns are needless. I’m simply unwilling to send my favourite mouse out into the cold on trivial, _unimportant_ business.’

 

Basil fidgeted about in his chair until he was facing Ratigan. The cigarette smoke was making him jittery, and he reminded himself to get some more tobacco next time he was sent up.

 

‘I’d be of much greater use out there than in here,’ he said stubbornly.

 

‘Well I do believe I left you with plenty to be getting on with,’ said Ratigan fondly.

 

‘Oh, that. I’m not half as good as Hiram was. I’m more locksmith than clocksmith.’

 

‘Yes, I do observe a distinct lack of gears and bolts. Did we upset one of your little experiments?’

 

Basil just scowled at him.

 

‘You run yourself ragged, dearest,’ said Ratigan, smiling toothily. ‘You missed my performance just now, you know?’

 

Basil grunted.

 

Ratigan’s attention turned to the closed door in the far corner of the room, and then to the rickety chair by Hiram's old desk, where a little bobble hat hung.

 

‘Ah, I _see_ ,’ he said. ‘You are still on nurse duty. It’s been a good few weeks now, you shouldn’t trouble yourself so.’

 

‘It’s the least I can do,’ muttered Basil.

 

‘Yes, it was a terrible pity about old Hiram. What a fool I was to trust Fidget with him on such a case.’

 

Basil’s gaze flickered over to the door, which Ratigan noticed.

 

‘I do hate to see you so distracted, Basil. Especially from your work,’ said Ratigan, pulling the (partially dissolved) cloth from Basil’s grip and throwing it into a corner.

 

‘I’m not distracted.’

 

‘You are. And so beastly you could make me _cry_... and with that in mind I think it is time for our little Miss Flaversham to leave us.’

 

Basil swallowed.

 

‘Ah, yes,’ he said, coughing gently. ‘I’ve been meaning to speak with you about that.’

 

Ratigan raised an eyebrow, taking a puff from his cigarette.

 

‘I was thinking I could carry on caring for Olivia,’ Basil continued. ‘After all, she has no one else... and when I’m not working I spend most of my time here.’

 

He paused to look at Ratigan, but his boss only continued to smoke, narrowing his eyes at him through a light haze.

 

‘I know she is of little use to the business right now,’ Basil tried again. ‘But she does know some of her father’s trade, and with my help she could utilise her skills.’

 

The silence that followed was a tense one but Basil kept his composure, like it wasn’t extremely risky to ask Ratigan for things; like he wasn’t the only one really permitted to do so.

 

‘How lucky the girl is,’ drawled Ratigan after a while, ‘to have my lovely Basil so willing to take her in.’

 

‘She may not think so,’ said Basil, shrugging. ‘She’s been fairly _unlucky_ , so far.’

 

‘Her father came to _us_. He chose his own path.’

 

‘But she thought the world of him. She believes in that perfect image of him utterly and she won’t let anyone else shatter it.’

 

Ratigan tutted.

 

‘Oh, I know how that feels,’ he said sorrowfully, reaching to cup and pet Basil’s face momentarily in his hand.

 

Basil blushed under his fur when he was let go, and cocked his head, watching Ratigan carefully.

 

‘So, what do you say, boss?’ he asked casually. ‘May I continue to look after her?’

 

Ratigan pouted.

 

‘But my dear Basil, _I_ have need of you,’ he said, striding away to stub out his cigarette on an empty plate atop a footstool by the door to the office. ‘Your work is too important – _you_ are too important to be wasted on some insignificant little...’, he became aware of Basil’s clenching jaw, ‘...girl.’

 

Basil nodded silently, crossing his legs and considering his next move.

 

‘There are plenty of orphanages that would take her,’ suggested Ratigan.

 

‘The good ones are few and far between, and besides, everyone knows about her father’s association with us,’ said Basil. ‘With her accent she’ll be easily recognised.’

 

Yes, Basil could all too easily imagine the rest of Olivia’s miserable childhood.

 

‘I tell you again, it was all Hiram's decision,’ said Ratigan in a sing-song voice.

 

‘And I say again; not to involve her it wasn’t.’

 

Ratigan rolled his eyes.

 

‘ _Well_ , if you must insist that she stay close surely Mrs. Judson can care for her?’

 

‘What? And feed all of us, and continue with all her own work?’

 

Ratigan put his hands up in mock-defeat.

 

‘You see?’ he said sweetly. ‘It simply won’t work. Yes, she’s a little problem is dear Miss Flaversham.’

 

Basil frowned.

 

‘Indeed,’ he said.

 

‘A terrible shame,’ sighed Ratigan, shaking his head as he moved slowly around the room, examining Basil’s things as he often liked to.

 

‘Of course – she _could_ be _our_ little problem,’ said Basil after a while of watching him.

 

Ratigan’s head swivelled around; his yellow-eyed gaze back on Basil.

 

‘She’s already our – ... _Ours_?’ he said, confused.

 

‘Yes,’ said Basil. ‘I’d keep her out of the way of business, naturally. You could pay the way for a decent future for her; Hiram was one of the best you had, after all.’

 

As he listened, Ratigan’s confused expression fell into one of disbelief.

 

‘You – you don’t mean – ?’ he sputtered uncharacteristically.

 

‘She has no one else,’ Basil continued nonchalantly. ‘She may not take so kindly to you, but she likes me. Give it a few years... I think we could make it work.’

 

Ratigan giggled, near hysterical as he tried to make sure he understood correctly.

 

‘My dear Basil – “We?”... “Ours?” Do clarify,’ he said, clenching his hands in anticipation as he watched Basil nod.

 

‘I deduce from your endearments that you haven’t lost interest in me?’ said Basil, jiggling the foot of his crossed leg.

 

Ratigan looked as though he might faint.

 

‘ _Basil_. Oh my dear, darling Basil do you really mean it? You’ll be mine?’

 

‘I’m a man of my word.’

 

‘You’re a conman,’ Ratigan said, chuckling. ‘My bravest and best...’ He grinned hungrily. ‘So, you would – ?’

 

‘If you agree to take in Olivia.’

 

Ratigan nodded, his gaze raking over Basil’s little form feverishly.

 

‘ _Of course_ , Basil. I’d be only too delighted to care for the child.’

 

Basil stood then, walking over to poke a bony finger in Ratigan’s chest and looking up at him meaningfully.

 

‘You will _not_ torment or threaten her,’ he said. ‘Or use her as a bargaining chip. Once she’s ours she’s ours. I will take a very dim view of it if you betray us.’

 

Ratigan took Basil’s hand in his own.

 

‘Now, now, there’s no need for that,’ he drawled. ‘You have my word. But – what of you?’

 

‘I will be loyal to you.’

 

‘You’re already _loyal_ , precious.’

 

Basil smiled, giving Ratigan’s hand a little squeeze.

 

‘Everything you want; everything you’ve asked of me, I’ll give it,’ he said softly. ‘We’ll be together. I’ll care for Olivia, and for you.’

 

Ratigan’s eyes went wide and shone with excitement.

 

‘And I for you,’ he growled.

 

Basil had never seen his boss quite like this; this was him at the very height of a new kind of victory.

 

‘And for her, don’t forget,’ he said. ‘I will be the primary caregiver, of course.’

 

Ratigan grinned again.

 

‘ _Darling_ , you can barely take care of yourself,’ he said. ‘Remember when we met?’

 

Basil blanched, looking as though he might argue for a moment, before he relaxed.

 

‘Yes,’ he said awkwardly. ‘But I know how you detest children.’

 

‘As I thought _you_ did.’

 

‘Not children; _people_ , Ratigan. Some people.’

 

‘Call me Padraic, darling, _please_.’

 

‘Padraic,’ said Basil gently. ‘What do you think?’

 

‘I think...’ said Ratigan, close to panting in his jubilance as he drew Basil closer, ‘that I want to kiss you.’

 

‘Indeed?’

 

‘And I have a couple more of my own conditions if you don’t mind.’

 

‘Naturally.’

 

‘You move in to my quarters. I’ll get adequate accommodation for the girl, too.’

 

Basil nodded as Ratigan continued.

 

‘And I want to marry you.’

 

‘You do?’ asked Basil, surprised.

 

‘Oh, yes. I want this to be official, pet. What do you say?’

 

‘Very well,’ said Basil thoughtfully. ‘But perhaps a small ceremony?’

 

Ratigan deflated somewhat, mouth turned up in a sneer.

 

‘A small ceremony, yes...’ he said. ‘A modest affair... in the hall.’

 

Basil rolled his eyes.

 

‘Very well,’ he repeated.

 

‘Now, darling...’ said Ratigan, as he stroked his thumb over the back of Basil’s little hand, and his other arm went around him in a half-embrace. He paused, looking over at the bedroom door again suspiciously.

 

‘She’s asleep,’ said Basil, understanding. ‘Sweet of you to be concerned, Padraic.’

 

‘Can you be sure?’

 

‘She’s a terrible eavesdropper. I think that’s one of the first things I shall teach her to do properly. But once she’s out she sleeps through the night.’

 

Ratigan looked back down at him.

 

 _‘Good,’_ he said.

 

Basil tipped his face up towards him and Ratigan bent down, surrounding the mouse almost completely. At the first touch of Ratigan’s lips on his, he took a moment to breathe through his nose, overwhelmed. Then, they both relaxed into the kiss, Ratigan releasing Basil’s hand so that he could hold him in both arms. His cape swung forwards, and Basil was almost entirely obscured from the view of three curious henchmen who were spying on them through the rather crudely made window of the wine barrel.

 


End file.
